


Ten Years

by Waynesgrayson



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Allison, Beta Scott, Blood and Gore, F/M, Gore, Graphic Description, Hale-Argent pack, M/M, Mild Language, Most characters are only mentioned, Violence, Werewolf Allison, Werewolf Lydia, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 04:56:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2011695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waynesgrayson/pseuds/Waynesgrayson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wolf hung from the ceiling, his body draining onto her skin, his teeth in a pile next to her.<br/>A small voice sounded from the loud noise of her mind, “Allison?” the voice was shaky, and didn't match the always steady girl, “Allison, are you okay?”<br/>Allison breathed in deeply and licked her lips, swallowing the wolfs blood. She opened her eyes and could feel them fill red. </p><p>"I'm the alpha now."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Years

**Author's Note:**

> I really like the idea of Allison being an alpha.

Ten Years.

 

“Bind and gag them all.” Her tone was sharp and predatory as her eyes bore into the soul of the unlucky hunter in front of her. She watches as Lydia and Stiles rip the mens clothing apart and shove the fabric between their teeth, eye contact never failing as they bind the hunters limbs with the materials intended to hold her own and other packs down. Their eyes glowing in the dark, teeth bared, and movements slow as they circle their prey. Intimidation. Own them. Make them beg for it. Just like she taught them. Naturally, Allison has nothing against hunters _if_ they followed code, but break law, and she has you tied up by your ankles, wishing you had a chance to kiss your mama before she pulls your teeth out and slits your throat.

And that's just what she does.

 The job was tedious, she will admit. But she enjoys watching the hope leave hunters eyes as her beta's hold them still, dirty claws digging into their cheeks as blood runs down her hands; fingers covered in tears, saliva, and blood. Oh how they would beg into their gag, high pitched hysteria staining her ears as they swear they won't do it again. But they will. They'd send others after them. Ones they believe to be stronger, smarter, faster. But it will never be enough. Her pack will rip them apart, and leave a trail of their mangled corpses for others to pick up, “Don't lie to me.” she says as she presses her knife to the leaders -Gavin's- throat, teasing the skin and she softly draws a pale pink line into it. His whines are growing louder. He knows he's going to die. Gripping the back of his head she draws him in close, her lips touch his ear and she allows her fangs to graze the cartilage, “Did you really think you could get away with all this?” she looks into his tear filled eyes and waits a few seconds, as if she expects him to answer her question. All she receives in response are strangled breathes. She has had enough. Holding his head back she flashes her eyes, and retraces her line from seconds ago, allowing the blood to spill over and paint the ground with a sickly slow drip.

 She stands up and takes a few steps back, she tilts her head to the side as she wipes the blade on a piece of cloth, examining her work. Seven of them in total hang from the wood ceiling planks in front of her, all bound and gagged, though only one was still alive at her feet, teeth in place. _He_ would crawl home and tell their story. They were something of legend after all. _The pack of three_. She places the blade back into it's hold in her belt, and takes her quiver from Lydia's grip. She watches the man for awhile, eyes looking bored as she takes in his crumpled up form on the floor. His mouth held slightly open by the make shift gag, he pleads through the gap. _Disgusting_.

“Follow us,” she says, bow raised “And we'll kill you.” the arrows released and lands in the wood next to the man, just grazing his left ear.

Muffled cries is the sound the three exit to.

 

**

 

 Once she puts enough distance between the men and her pack, Allison pulls over and gets out of the car, shaky hands slamming the door with more force then necessary. Her mind was moving a mile a minute, reminding herself that her pack is with her, they are alive, she is alive, and that they will soon be safe. She wouldn't say it aloud, but she was scared hours ago when they walked into that warehouse. They were fully aware of what they would find, and they knew how to handle it. But the thought, w _hat if,_ is always tucked away in the back pocket of her mind, burning at the edges. She always walks into a fight wondering is _this_ will be the bloodbath that smokes her out.

Within seconds Lydia and Stiles are in front of their pacing alpha, looks of worry plastered on their still dirty faces. Their cuts and wounds are already healed but Allison could still see them clear as day. She doesn't like the sight her mind in conjuring. Her pack should always be okay. Her beta's should always be joking around, Stiles with the nasty one liner and Lydia with the matching sarcastic tone, playing off each other in a battle of wits. Always laughing her beta's, so seeing their faces sullen with an air of uncertainty makes her want to break down.

So she does the only thing she can do. She stops her pacing and walks towards them with open arms. She never felt more anchored than when she's wrapped around her beta's, breathing in their scents; Lydia's sharp yet soothing, and Stiles's sweet and rich. Allison felt like she could melt right there.

Sinking to her knees, she brings her beta's down with her and pulls them towards her until they're half laying in her lap, one on either side. She leans down and presses a kiss to both their heads before speaking, “I'm so sorry.” she says, repeating the words like a prayer, as if she believes some higher power would hear her broken words and make things okay. She nuzzles their heads until her thoughts calm.

“Come on,” She whispers, “Let's hit the road.”

 

**

 

They pull up to a motel just off the highway. Allison enters the building when she feels she looks presentable enough, no blood caking her fingers or face. Well, not as much as before, there was only so much a rear view mirror could show. The man who helps her doesn't seem bothered by her disheveled appearance or the tired smile that graces her features, and if he is, well, she's glad he keeps such thoughts to himself. Though his heartbeat is a dead giveaway.

 Allison takes the key from him, wishes him a good night, and walks back to the car, driving it around to the side of the motel their room is located. Her beta's are still quiet. She hopes the silence won't stay for much longer. She parks, and grabs their duffel from the trunk.

Once inside Lydia immediately goes to the shower, Stiles strips down to his boxers and shirt right there as Allison dials the phone. She sighs in relief when her father answers. Their exchange is quick and quiet, she whispers her love before hanging up and giving Stiles the chance to do the same for John.

“Are you okay?” Stiles crawls towards her after his phone call. She's sitting at the bottom of the bed, starring out but seeing nothing. He sits next to her.

“Yeah, I'm okay,” she says wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “Just tired ya know?”

“Yeah, and we would be able to sleep if _someone_ wasn't busy hogging all the hot water.” he says a little louder.  
Allison chuckles when a muffled, “Go eat a dick, Stilinski” comes from the bathroom.

“Touchy,” he says with a grin, laying down.

Allison lays back with him, stretching her arms over her head, and closing her eyes. She can feel the concerned gaze of her beta on her skin, “You did good today, Allison. You know that, right?”

She sighs and opens one eye, “Yeah.”

“He is right you know,” says a freshly showered Lydia, towel around her middle as she walks past them to the black duffel bag on the small table, “You did the right thing. They were killing other packs and they would have killed us.”

“I know that. I don't regret what we've done, I just-”

“You don't like the feeling afterword.”

Silence once again fills the room. Allison rubs her tired eyes with the palm of her hands and sighs, “I'm going to quickly shower, okay?” not waiting for a response, she gets up and walks to the bathroom, the door closing with a quiet click.

**

 

Once the three are showered and dressed they lay on the bed. Or, rather, the two beds they pushed together. It will be a nice change from sleeping in the car, alternating the back seat with the front and passenger. _It'll be nice to wake up without a sore back_ , Allison thinks. After their run in with those hunters in their territory, Allison knew right away who they were, and that they needed to be taken care of. Weeks before they even touched Beacon soil, Allison received word from several packs in the surrounding area, warning them about these men. They were ruthless people who would take down whole packs within days, sometimes taking any humans or children, holding them for ransom, which would force the alpha's surrender. Then, and only then, would they string up and gut every pack member as the alphas watch, bound by all that could stop them. Needless to say Allison was terrified. So, she took her beta's and packed for the road, she kissed her father and mate goodbye and set out.

 

They haven't been home in almost a month.

 

She didn't like leaving for so long, and neither did her beta's, but they take it upon themselves to protect all they can. It is their job.

She looks down at Lydia and Stiles, and a small smile breaks her sad thoughts. Both beta's were asleep; Stiles, with his limbs star fished, mouth slightly open and drooling, occasionally he would mutter something into his pillow, but most of it was unintelligible blabber; Lydia, was curled into Allison's side snoring softly, hair splayed across the pillow; Allison herself is sandwiched in the middle, arms over each beta, legs tangled with Lydia's.

She finds the sight endearing.

They both call her soft. Usually in teasing tones when she's excited over something, or after she coos them. She believes it had to do with knowing both for so long, because Allison was in no way a soft alpha. She works them until sweat drips off their brows like a running faucet, blood staining their finger tips and balls of their feet. Arms and leg aching for days with cuts and bruises that would take weeks to heal. She yelled and wouldn't take no for an answer.

But she was the first one to wrap their wounds, the first one to praise, and to help them up off the dirt she threw them on. She loved them with all her heart before the bond the bite gave them, and she continued to do so after.

She could feel the her eyes sting slightly, if not from the tears forming, then the glare from the small television in front of her. She soon found she could not keep them open anymore.

She falls asleep to the sound of a prepaid movie playing on screen, and her beta's at her side.

 

**

 

Walking into the motel room with cups of coffee and breakfast, Lydia shakes her head at the sight of Stiles still buried underneath their nest of blankets. She walks over to Allison who's going over a map on the table, and places the food on top, “Break time.”

Allison smiles and reaches for the cup that has her name written across it in black font, “Thanks Lyds.”

“Sure thing,” The beta smiles sweetly before walking over to the bed and ripping the blankets off the mans body. Naturally, he stays in place, only moving slightly and mumbling, “Rude.” into his pillow. He reaches back blindly for the blankets and stops once he realizes he isn't getting them back, “Rise and shine, beautiful!” Lydia shouts, heels already clicking away. Stiles grumbles for a little while longer before pulling himself out of bed and stumbling over to Allison and breakfast. She ruffles his bed head until it looks somewhat tame and pats his head, “Don't mom me.”

“Too late!” she smiles before running her fingers through his hair one more time, “I think you're due for a hair cut soon.”

“You think? I was thinking about keeping it long.”

“I think it'll look nice long. Out of your eyes though.”

He cracks a smile, “Yeah.”

Lydia walks back into the room and hums in approval at seeing Stiles up and out of bed, “Look who decided to join the living.”

He sticks his tongue out in response.

“How mature. It's a wonder we put up with you.”

“Hey, I'm a joy.”

“Yeah, yeah” says Lydia grabbing the duffel and shoving it into Stiles's arms, “Get dressed Sleeping Beauty.”

 

**

 

“So, how soon do you think we'll be home?” Stiles asks scratching the back of his head. Allison sighs inwardly. She wants to go home as much as they do, but unfortunately, “We have to make a stop.” she says with an apologetic smile. Stiles groans and Lydia doesn't hold back her sigh. They're tired and Allison knows they miss everyone at home. Stiles has Derek and their daughter waiting, and Lydia has Issac, and as much as Allison wishes she could reunite their pack, it wasn't in the cards right now.

 

**

It took years to unit the two packs. Derek Hale approached her almost immediately after her turning with an offer she couldn't refuse. Though she did, time and time again until she realized she needed what he was offering. She came around eventually, but Allison was hesitant to shake hands with Hale. Mainly because of her small 'number of three' pack. She didn't want to subject her beta's to a throw in power, but if they stayed on their own there was only so much they could do. She had to admit, she needed the numbers, if only to keep her beta's safe.

“Allison, we're okay alone. You know that.” She turned to Stiles suddenly, eyes flashing red. She had to give him credit, he didn't back down. Stiles was never one to give into bleeding eyes. Neither was Lydia. It was discouraging at the start, but she soon understood. They didn't fear her, they respected her position, so they held her gaze with just as much power.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't miss Scott.”

He flinched.

“Thought so.” she left him standing there, her boots clicking softly as she walked away.

It was hard when the rouge alpha attacks took place in Beacon Hills. Most pegged it as a mountain lion attack, so that's what the wolves allowed them to believe. She and Lydia weren't the only ones who felt the pain, but Scott as well. Though he sided with Derek, taking the mans offer of learning almost immediately, they were still together.

Where Scott went, Stiles wasn't far behind. The boy didn't officially join Derek and his newly turned wolves; Isaac, Erica and Boyd, but rather took notes and soaked up information like a sponge. He soon became their walking Oracle, anchoring and helping out the wolves he could despite the bodily harm conflicted on him. The four will never forget the first full moon, when Stiles took them to an abandoned warehouse, shackled Allison, Lydia and Scott down, and sat outside the doors all night with his hands over his ears, doing his best to hide from the shrieks behind him. He was _the_ human until months later, though Oracle he still remained.

She was also worried about the alpha on alpha conflict that would eventually happen.

And it did.

It was often that Allison and Derek disagreed on tactics and how things should be run. Lydia and Stiles at her side the moment things looked like they could become heated, snarling at the other wolves, claws out. It was moments like this when both alpha's knew they needed to forge together, or the pack would rip itself apart from the inside out. Especially when Allison saw the look on Stiles's face when he and Scott stood on opposing sides; when Lydia wouldn't look at Kira or Isaac for days after a fight; and the way Allison wanted to hold Scott like the lovers they were, but was left unsure as to where they stood.

It took them even longer to find steady footing.

She lost count of how many times she found Scott and Stiles sitting somewhere talking in hushed tones. A touch of fear radiating off their skins in the off chance they'd be caught, as if they actually were fraternizing with the enemy and not family. They'd hug after each meeting, long and hard as if it would be the last time they'd see each other. Like one was going off to war while the other stayed at home, and prayed for safety.

She confronted Derek about it when it became too much. She could feel her beta's sadness through their bond and it was starting to take it's toll on her. Their pain affected her performance and duties as an alpha. The feeling it brought was failure when she demanded nothing less than perfect. She felt broken.

Derek told her he felt the same.

So they agreed to work as alphas, and as friends, or watch their packs be destroyed.

And they worked until there was no doubt that the bond between the packs was singing through the veins of every member, human or wolf.

One night, after a gruelling practice, Allison and Derek were walking back to the house together, sides occasional bumping as they watched Stiles tackle Boyd with Danny, and Scott giving Kira a piggy back ride, everyone laughing despite the grime and sweat. The sight made Allison burst with happiness.

And that's when they both felt it. A pain, like an electric shock, shoot through their legs and up their bodies, settling in their hearts.

“ALLISON! Allison talk to us come on sweetheart – STILES!”

“Whoa! Hey, hey, Derek...DEREK. DEREK!”

They both woke hours later, side by side on the living room floor of the Hale house, concerned pack hovering above. And that's when Allison felt it. She called her bond with her Lydia and Stiles strings, like the ones found on an instrument. When plucked, she could feel their emotions, sense what they're thinking, and what they need. She could feel those strings plucking her heart always, a soft little melody that lulled her to sleep most nights, or calmed her down when the wolf took over too much.

She felt it still. But this was different.

It was no longer a tiny band in her heart, but an orchestra playing to it's full capability.

And the melody was breathtakingly beautiful.

One look at Derek, and she knew he felt it too.

“Are you-,” she coughed, her voices was rough, as if she'd been screaming, “Are you okay?”

He nodded, but his wide eyes contradicted him, he look terrified, “Are you?”

“Yeah,” she laughed, “I'm perfect.”

Early on in their agreement, Allison made it clear what she and her pack do. If someone was in need, they'd packed up and hit the road. Derek didn't like it at first. While she understood where he was coming from, she wasn't going to take no for an answer. He claimed that, “A pack needs to stick together. Always.” and she agreed with his point, however, “If someone needs my help, I will never leave them to suffer when there is something I can do about it.”

It wasn't the first or last time they talked about the, “Issue.”

“It's not an issue, Derek. You're the one making this a problem.”

It was something that made forging their packs difficult. If she and her beta's were gone for weeks at a time, it was easy to slip back into to old habits and lose any progress they made with the other pack members. It was frustrating she knew. It was even more difficult when most of the faces were familiar. She went to school with a lot of them, and for whatever reason she felt like they would all click. Maybe that's why they didn't at first. High school hierarchy was still in the way.

 

It wasn't until later when she learned why Derek was so hesitant. It was a late night confession, the man was clearly in a vulnerable state, “I lost most of my family. I don't want it happening again.” Allison understood where he was coming from, and she knew he was only telling her this because he was tired of all the tip toeing everyone was doing. They need results fast, and if opening up to each other was the way to do it, so be it, “I lost my mom when I was in high school...” that night she and Derek spilled their life stories on the Hale house roof. A bottle of whiskey between them.

 

**

 

“What for?” Lydia asks, leaning over the table, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Just outside of Beacon, there is the Martella pack. They were one of the packs to warn us about Gavin's hunters. They passed by them, thankfully,” she says and Lydia nods, “I received word this morning from Derek saying they're in need our help with some hunters who are setting up shop.”

“Can't they handle it?”

“Derek offered, but we need an alpha on territory just in case. So, I told him we'd check it out since it's on our way.”

Lydia kisses her teeth and places her hands flat on the tables surface, “Okay. What do we know?”  
“Turns out the local hunters and pack do have a truce, it's much like our old one, 'Don't hurt others and we won't hurt you' type deal” Lydia nods, “But, it looks like these new hunters are not buying it,” Allison rolls her wrist and fans her hands out, “Basically we have our typical tough-guy hunter business going on.”

“So we do what?' Stiles asks walking back into the room, “Roll into town, work up a plan with the local pack and hunters, and smoke out the problem?”

“Pretty much.” Allison nods.

“Okay,” Stiles says, shoving his dirty clothes into their duffel, he then grabs his coffee from the brown cardboard holder, “Let's hit the road.”

 

**

 

A few hours and an irritating game of eye spy later- “ _I swear to god Stiles I will rip your balls off!”_ \- they're greeted by an old sign labelled, “Welcome to Pointerville! Home of the Wolves ” _Well that's ironic_ , Allison thinks with a small huff of laughter.

“Lydia, get on the phone and tell them we're almost there, their number should already be there under Martella.”

“Got it.” Lydia says before placing the phone to her ear, the ring tone dialling four times before a woman answers, “Hi...”

Allison looks into the rear view mirror and watches Stiles's quiet frame for a few seconds. She knows he's not sleeping, but rather in deep thought. Probably about his daughter, Allison thinks with a sad smile, he does that a lot when they're on the road. Kaylee is the name of his and Derek's little girl. Complete with Derek's expressive face and Stiles's limb coordination, at three years old she's quiet the handful. Every once in a while, Stiles would call John with an update and end up taking a few minutes longer to talk in hushed tones about the crazy shenanigans the Scooby Gang was getting into. His mood varied after those phone calls. Sometimes he'd look brand new, and sometimes he needs the space, walking around the surrounding area until Allison gets him. She knows Stiles misses being there and seeing his little girl grow up at vital points in her life. She will never forget how hard he hid his tears when he found out Kaylee's first words were meant for him.

 

**

 

“Hey Allison.”

“Derek,” she sent a look in Stiles's direction, the man was already looking her way, eyebrows drawn together. He looked a little worried, “Is everything alright.”

“Yeah,” Derek was silent for a moment, “Is Stiles there?”

“Yeah of course, here,” before the phone was fully away from her face, Stiles had it in his hands. He gave her an apologetic look but she waved it off.

Allison went about other business, but couldn't help leaving an ear open to her beta's conversation.

“Who's a good girl? Who does daddy love? Who does daddy miss? Who's daddy's girl?” All questions were answered with high pitched giggles and Kaylee's attempts at cooing back,.

“Stop being cute!” came Lydia's protest from the other side of the room, though her soft expression made it clear she was enjoying it. Allison bit her lip in an attempt to calm her smile. It didn't work.

“That's right, it's Kaylee baby!” Stiles said in his high pitched voice, causing another giggle to shine through the phone.

“Don't you have something to say to daddy, Kaylee? What did you tell papa earlier?” Derek prompted though the phone, and Allison could almost feel Stiles tense up, his emotions went from calm and soothed to flying all over the place. His heart pounding wildly. Allison traded a sober look with Lydia, the beta's mouth was open, but a small hopeful smile tugged at her lips.

A few minutes passed, filled with Derek's soft voice and Kaylee's blabber, but when she finally said it, nothing could stop the single tear that stained Stiles's cheek.

“Dada.”

 

**

 

She doesn't allow direct communication with the pack when they're gone as a precaution. One they all understand the significance of. Generally, they sent their regards though both Chris and John whenever they could. It was always hard for the pack. But a necessity. Though she never had the heart to put an end to Stiles's and Kaylee's talks. After all, what's five minutes compared to the pure joy that radiates off his skin days after?

Okay. Maybe she wasn't has tough as she believes. Maybe it's the soft spot she'll always have for the two that makes her bend the rules just a touch.

“Okay, thank you, Mrs. Martella. We'll see you soon. Okay, bye.” Lydia pulls the phone away from her ear and looks at it as she ends the call. As she passes the phone back to Allison she repeats the instructions given to her moments before, “Okay, pull up into the nearest truck stop, Mrs. Martella said that a beta will be waiting for us there, and that he will lead us to the rest of the group.”  
Blinking his eyes open, Stiles sits up from where he's slouching in the back, “A meeting already?”

“They want this done quickly.” Lydia says looking back.

Closing his eyes once more, Stiles sighs, “I don't blame them.”

 

**

 

After they find the truck stop, they get out and exchange a few words with Martella's beta, “Joel.” he says, hand extended out in invitation. “Allison, and these are my beta's Lydia, and Stiles.” “Nice to meet you all, and thank you for coming.” Allison nods in answer and they split up to their respected vehicles.

 

**

 

It's another half hour drive before they hit a more rocky terrain, and a few minutes later until they pull up to a modest looking home just off a lake. The sun is setting, and the mix of reds and oranges the sunset offers is comforting. Allison likes the cottage vibe the surrounding area gives and she would allow herself a smile if the situation didn't require a more professional approach at the moment. Joel is out of his truck before her car comes to a stop. He runs up to the house, the front door is already open and Allison can see a few people walking past the door, anxious glances visible. A group of people though, are already outside. One woman is looking straight at Allison, leaving no doubt as to who she is.

Allison gets out of the car followed closely by Lydia and Stiles.

“Alpha Argent.”

“Alpha Martella.”

They both maintain eye contact for a while, sizing each other up. Allison was expecting this. She has had her fair share of alpha stare offs, but this wasn't that. While they both know the intentions of this visit Allison knows Martella needs to make sure she's getting what she's asked for. Needs to know that this is the help that will get her results. Allison knows she'll find what she's looking for.

Studying the woman Allison can tell she's been doing this for a long time. Hints of grey peeking out around her temples, a few streaks lining her long red hair. Her face is sprinkled with freckles and little white scars that stand out on her dark skin; around her eyes, nose and mouth are pronounced laughter lines. She is quite beautiful, but there is no mistaking the predator vibe. She is the alpha.

Once satisfied with what she sees, Martella shoulders relax and a small sigh of relief escapes her lips, “Allison,” she stretches her hand out, Allison takes it, “ Thank you for coming.”

“Of course,” she says, she looks back, “These are my beta's Lydia and Stiles.” both walk out from behind Allison and shake Martella's hand, giving their own small introductions.

“Okay.” The alpha says clasping her hands together, “If the three of you will follow me.”

They fall in line behind her, shaking hands and saying hello to those they pass, “You here to help us catch these sonsofbitches?”

“Yes, sir” Stiles says nodding at the man, Edgar., he introduces. He's older then most of the pack here, werewolf, “Well alright then, son. Let's bag us some hunters.”

Stiles laughs.

Alpha Martella leads them through her home and down a hallway. She opens a door at the end of it and crouches down, unlocking and pulling up another door, “Can't let the little kids find it now can we?” she smiles as she walks down the ladder, leading them to what must be their room of operations.

The sight is a familiar one. It reminds Allison of her fathers basement, full of guns and various weapons lining the walls, all set out on display, angled on a small slant; shelves filled with what Allison assumes would be bullets and ammunition, probably medicine and other things needed as well. In the middle of the room, is a group of people huddled around a table. Few spare a glance upwards and even less keep their gaze on them. Allison's glad their appearance is less of a distraction than it usually is.

“This them?” One says pointing at her.

“Yes,” Martella says walking over to the man, “Robert, this is Allison, Lydia and Stiles.” all three responding to their name. The others go around the table, introducing themselves, Martella's husband, Andrew, is among them, “Think you can handle some hard asses who won't take no for an answer?”

Allison smirks when Lydia steps out from behind her, “Have been since I was fourteen.”

They join the circle then, Stiles and Lydia immediately asking questions and enquiring about the maps they have spread out over the table, “These are all the places they've been?” Lydia asks, circling the maps red dots with her finger.

Robert nods, “Within the last year, yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Contact with other packs. They've caused a lot of destruction and have left quite the path. I'm surprised word didn't reach you sooner.”

“As am I.” Allison says, “That worries me.”

Lydia looks at her for a moment before asking, “Do you know why? Is it out of some sort of vendetta?”

“We believe it's just a general hatred of wolves,” Robert sighs, “I mean you can have hunters enter territory and have them gone the minute you tell them things are under control. Some will take a bit more persuasion. But then you have these guys,” Robert says pointing to a grey and blurry picture of what must be the men they're after, “Ones who don't give a damn. They just want wolves dead, along with anyone willing to protect them.”

“Perfect.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

 

**

 

Hours pass with much of the same conversation. By this time most of Martella's pack has joined them, sitting on the floor with other hunters, talking in hushed tones, highlighting and scribbling quickly other things people say. It reminds Allison a lot of their pack meetings when a problem surfaces.

Danny, Kira and Stiles hunched over each other, pointing out things, connecting sentences and points together until it's as if they're saying the same thing at the same time. Boyd and Isaac running perimeter checks and switching off with Erica and Jackson, swapping information and giving anything important to their two alphas. Lydia, organizing their board and writing down it all down fast, deleting and editing as she processes it all with the occasional shout to their three mind readers with an idea, or for clarification.

It was always an amazing sight, and here is no exception.

The hunters give them an over view of who, and what they're dealing with. Much like the men she and her beta's took care of the other night, these hunters have no remorse and no regret when it comes to torturing and killing werewolves, they're willing to go as far as killing any human's involved, including children. When Jo -seconded in command to Robert- gave them that fact, she could feel Stiles's blood run cold. His string plucking her heart rapidly until she calms him through their bond.

She learns that the leaders name is Ricardo. They're also given the names of everyone else, but Allison discards them.

In the end, they don't matter.

Ricardo and his hunters have been doing what they do for over a year, they learn that a family member was killed during a turf war. As it turns out, they use to work with the Logan pack before things got out of hand.

“It took one young hunter to do something stupid. Set off a chain reaction that pretty much destroyed the town and sent Ricardo into a spiral of crazy. Him and his hunters packed their bags, hit the road, and started tearing down wolf packs one by one.”

“And no ones been able to stop them?” Lydia asks, her tone unbelieving.

Robert shakes his head, “Could only ever slow them down or drop their numbers.”

“So,” Stiles says, hands busy fiddling with an open marker, “We're not here to intimidate. We're here to kill them, aren't we.”

The atmosphere sobers for a moment, a few sighs break the air and Allison could tell no one was one hundred percent happy about this. Though Robert looks determined, his eyes barring right into Stiles's, “We have to put these bitches down now, before they cause anymore damage.”

And he's right.

Allison walks over to Martella who is leaning back against the wall. Her eyes are closed, pale eyelashes just short of brushing her cheek. She looks peaceful, but the ever present frown makes it hard to look past that. She nudges her shoulder softly and offers a smile when Martella turns her head. She receives one in return, “How long have you been at this?”  
“A few days,” Martella says bringing her hands up to her face, holding them there for a moment, “I wouldn't have called if I was sure we could handle this.” she says once she moves her hands.  
“I know.”

“I just don't want to risk it. I figured a few more claws is worth it.”  
“It will be,” Allison says turning to face her, “We'll get these men out of your home soon.”

Martella smiles, “Thank you, Allison.”

They both turn away and face the busy room.

 

**

 

Another hour passes before a question breaks the chatter, “Any of you have a child waiting?” the room seems to still in suspense, some looking around to find Allison and her beta's.

“Yeah.” Stiles doesn't look up from his slouched position at the table, his voice soft and far away.

The hunter who asked - Rick, Allison's mind supplies- looks at his profile, probably taking in how young Stiles looks, but then again, the hunter didn't look much older. He nods and looks back down at the table, “Well, we'll get you home as soon as we can.”

“Thank you.”

Martella sighs and stands up from her spot at the wall, “Here, I'll give you the grand tour, show you to your room. We'll continue tomorrow.”

“We can work into the night, Lauren. We don't have time to waste.” Says Andrew, who looks a little worse for ware, “You don't think I know that?” her tone is sharp and the moment the words leave her mouth she looks ashamed. She walks over to her husband and kisses his forehead, “I'm sorry, but our guests have been on the road for a long time. They need rest.” They exchange a look before Andrew gives in with a sigh. Lauren turns to them, “This way.”

 

**

 

“How old are you all?” Martella asks in between room showings.

Allison holds back a sigh, “I'm twenty seven, my beta's are both twenty six.”

Martella pauses for a moment before showing them the bathroom and pointing to another down the hall, “And you were all bitten?”

Allison nods

“How long have you been doing what you do, Allison?”  
“Ten years now.”

 

**

 

Allison and Lydia were bitten during a girls night out. While they saw each other almost daily, Lydia made it mandatory to spend at least on night a week together. Allison never complained, she loved it. That Friday night they were leaving a little convenience store at the edge of town when a noise drew Allison away from Lydia's car, and towards the open road. Convinced it was a wounded animal, Allison kept walking towards the noise, ignoring, and occasionally shushing, Lydia's calls of protest. If the animal was hurt, she would get it to Deaton right away.

Allison walked further down the street, far enough that the light from the store was no longer illumination her body. The noise seemed to grow louder with every step she took, but the direction was always changing. Allison found herself spinning in a circle, her mind fogging up and twisting. Soon the noise was directly in front of her nose and the spinning came a halt. It was as if she was on screen and someone pressed pause.

“ALLISON!”

The last thing she remembered was hearing the rapid clicks of Lydia's heels and and blood filling her mouth.

A few months later, in a power induced frenzy, Allison walked red eyed into the boys change room and turned Stiles.

 

**

 

Martella looks at Allison hard for a few minutes. The silence stretches on as she lets herself be analyzed by the older alpha. She doesn't know for sure what Martella is seeing, or if any of it's remotely good. Though at the moment, she doesn't care. The past ten years have been tough, and she knows she and her beta's have the look of people who has seen too much. Because, well, they have. She knows what Martella is thinking. She's heard it all before from other werewolves, about how young they all were, how tough it must have been, how confusing things must have been. Allison has learned to ignore such remarks, but can't help but be thankful when Martella doesn't say another word about it.

“I hope you don't mind sharing a room, full house and all.” Martella says opening a cream coloured door. The room is a nice, furnished with a good sized bed, a dresser, a side table and a lamp. The colours playing the walls and fabrics are a light blue, the curtains black. Their duffel bag already placed on the edge of the bed. The room looks cozy.

“No, thank you, this is perfect.”

Martella let's the three walk past her and she leans against the door frame, “Well if you're all set here, I'm going to go and attempt to put everyone else to bed.”

Lydia smiles, “Good luck with that.”

Martella shakes her head and sighs, “Yeah. Good night.”

“Night.”

When the door clicks shut Allison turns to Lydia and Stiles, taking in their slumped and tired appearance she feels a pang of guilt fill her heart.

“Change and go to sleep, okay?” she says, and to her surprise, they both nod. Lydia grabs her things and walks out the door, muttering about needing the bathroom, and Stiles, who ran out of shame years ago, strips there. Allison does the same.

Within moments of Lydia's return, all three are asleep.

 

**

 

They are woken early by a nice beta named Kathy. They dress quickly and find everyone crowded into the dining room, and kitchen. Breakfast is a crazy yet organized affair, Allison smiles as she watches dishes be passed down along the table, people shouting out what it is and passing it to whoever yells for it the loudest.

Afterwards, most of them are back downstairs busying over their plan. They are introduced to Andrew and Lauren's kids, Violet, the oldest; Karen and Micheal, the twins; and Jack, their youngest. They have the job of keeping all the children out of everyone's hair for the next few days.

“They're cute,” Lydia says, smiling as they pass them on their way downstairs.

Martella looks back with a wink, “Why thank you, made them myself.”

Stiles scrunches up his nose and Lydia taps it in amusement, “Yes, dear, that's how babies are made.”

He pushes her hand away, “Shut it.” Lydia laughs and holds his arm.

 

**

 

Lydia leans back in her chair and runs a hand through her now messy hair, “So we're just going to walk in there guns blazing?” The room is quiet now. They know what they have to do and when it's to be done. They go in tonight and hopefully take the hunters by surprise. If not, Martella is confident their numbers should be enough to bring an even fight. The plan is rather simple, if Lydia's being honest. But it's straight forward and should ensure everyone makes it back when this is all over. She wants to laugh though. She knows everyone here wants this resolved and done, but she thinks they could at least take a better approach instead of throwing their heads into the chopping block

Allison, Lydia and Stiles will come from around the back with Joel, Rick; Martella, Robert, and Jo will go to the hunters head on; Andrew, Violet and the other hunters will take the sides; the wolves take the fight outside.

“Have to,” Robert says folding his arms, “These men are dangerous.”

“We're not even going to attempt negotiating.”

“I've told ya, we've tried already.”

“Okay then,” Martella stands and walks to the front of the table, she leans down and places both hands on the edge, eyes scanning the room, “You all know what to do.”

 

**

 

“Hi.”

Allison looks up from where she's staring at her hands, and smiles when she sees Violet, Martella's oldest daughter- the only daughter allowed to fight with them tonight- standing in front of her. _She looks just like her father_ , she thinks as the girl takes a seat next to her on the front steps.

“Hey.”

The girl is quite for a while, and Allison's content to let her just sit with her. Sometimes, that's all you need, to just sit and soak in the presence of someone else.

“Do you think this is going to work?” The girl doesn't look at Allison when she speaks, but rather keeps her gaze fixed pointedly on the ground. Allison knows she's scared.

“We're going to do all we can.”

“But there is no guarantee, is there?”

“It would be foolish to get our hopes up.”

“We can still hope for the best.”, she says, obviously distressed. Allison wonders if this is going to be her first fight.

“That's right.”

Violet nods and continues to avoid Allison's gaze.

“What else is bothering you, Violet?” She says, bending over a bit, trying to get a better look at the girl. Violet breathes in, and closes her eyes. The feeling of fear and worry seeps off her skin and her breathing picks up. She's crying. Violet catches herself quick though, tough like her mother she wipes the fallen tears and laughs. Allison offers her a smile.

“It's my friends.”

Allison nods. Violet and her friends offered their help when Martella expressed her worries over their numbers. Most of the pack attempted to talk them out of it, phrases like, “We have enough people.” and “Risking a young life is stupid.” filled the air, but did little to crack the teenagers resolve. They had stood their ground with looks of determination. Allison had grinned, she was _very_ familiar with the sight.

“I mean it's silly to worry about them, they're adults now, but, “ she pauses, getting back her breath, “I love them, you know? If one of them dies because of this, “she breathes in sharply, as if she might start crying again, “I don't know what I'd do.”

“Have you talked to them about this?”

Violet laughs, “I've told anyone who'd listen.” She looks up at Allison then, her eyes a bit pink, her cheeks flushed. Allison has seen this look in the mirror thousands of times over the years.

“You're allowed to be worried you know,” Allison says leaning back, resting her back on the bump of the next step, “But don't admit defeat. Believe that when the night comes to a close, you will see your friends.”

Violet maintains eye contact for a few seconds longer, looking away when another tear slips down her cheek. She laughs and wipes it away, “Thanks, Allison.” she stands up and waves her goodbye, running towards her friends.

 

**

 

Allison didn't meet Lydia and Stiles until high school. Lydia, she became friends with almost immediately. The red head saw her standing at her locker alone, and took matters into her own hands, inviting Allison over to her home and taking her out. Allison was grateful. At first she didn't know how to respond to Lydia's forwardness, but learned quickly to embrace it. Not even a month later they were joined at the hip, labelled best friends.

“What made you come up to me?” she asked one day Lydia was over, they were currently going over Allison's history test review, and Lydia was crossing things out, making her own notes in the margin for Allison to go over later, her tongue peeking through her lips, “Hm?”

“When I was standing alone at my locker, you came up to me. Why?”

Lydia nodded and looked back down at Allison's pile of notes. She was quiet for awhile. She seemed to be looking for the right way to word her response, if the way she kept opening and closing her mouth was anything to go by, “I was alone. And I saw you alone and thought ' _Let's give this a shot_ '.”

While Lydia was _the_ popular girl in the school, Allison did noticed she didn't hang around many people. In fact, Allison wasn't sure she's met anyone else Lydia willingly spent her time with. And if Lydia was lonely like she said, Allison figured she wanted to talk to someone who didn't have an opinion of her, giving her the chance to make her own impression, “Well, I'm glad you did.”

Lydia smiled back, though her eyes told Allison she was miles away, “Yeah, me too.”

It wasn't until later when she meet the two boys Lydia actually tolerated. Scott, she met first, introduced by Lydia at a lacrosse game after she caught Allison ogling the back of his head in class, “Now I know why you need the study help.” Lydia said with a grin.

Allison couldn't help but grin back, the boy _was_ deathly adorable, “Oh shut up. What about you and that Isaac boy.”

Now it was Lydia's turn to blush.

Stiles, she met through Scott. They boy was all limbs and fast speech, and if she was being honest, Allison didn't know what to do with him at first. But with Scott came Stiles, and Allison soon found she enjoyed his company.

Though it didn't look like it at the start - so Allison didn't feel too bad for not picking it up- since only a few knew the truth, Lydia and Stiles were close. When Allison finally got around to asking about their origins, Lydia shook her head but smiled, “The boy was in love with me for years. I don't actually know when that changed, but we ended up as lab partners in chemistry. I told him to get over it and we bonded over Harris's stupidity.” she splayed out her hands as if to say, “And here we are now.” While the explanation was short, Allison excepted it, and she soon fell in to orbit with the other three.

 

She wouldn't be able to pin point the exact moment she realized Stiles became her best friend alongside Lydia, but she knew they were more than just friends when he showed up at her door on a rainy Wednesday night, a bottle of his dad's Jack Daniels in hand. She let him in and for a while she just watched him stare back at her. It wasn't until he put the bottle down and opened his arms did she break down. She cried into his sweater and screamed about how unfair it all was until her voice was horse and raw, “How did you survive?” was the last thing she whispered, before falling asleep to Stiles telling his story in a broken hush.

 

**

 

“Hey,” Rick says, bumping her shoulder. She looks up from her crossbow and raises her eyebrows in question. He's dressed heavily in weapons, gun in hand while another is strapped to his back, a knife is strapped to his ankle and throwing knives decorate his belt,”You alright?” she sends him a small smile, and runs her fingers along her crossbow, “Yeah. You?” He laughs, “I'm always ready for a fight.”

They stand in silence for a few minutes longer before the soft padding of footsteps come up behind them. Stiles, Lydia and Joel appear, “Perimeter is clean, we're good to go.” Joel says looking at them both in turn.

“Okay,” Rick nods before pulling a walkie-talkie from his vest, “We're clear here.”

Martella's voice sounds through a moment later, “ _On my word_.”

Allison looks over at Stiles and Lydia, both are dressed in black with knives decorating their person, they're dressed similarly to her. Both have their eyes alight, claws and fangs out. They're focused and ready, just like they've been a thousand times before. Allison wonders if they'll ever stop walking into the fire, if maybe one day they'll retire and just deal with the problems Beacon has to offer. She huffs to herself and shakes her head, she knows they're too far deep into what they do, and as troublesome as it is, they love ever moment of it. They save lives and bring the peace.

_Nous protègons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protèger eux měmes_

“Now.”

With one last glance at her beta's, Allison allows her eyes to bleed red, and walks slowly toward the warehouse.

 

**

 

It doesn't take long for shots to ring out. The hunters they're dealing with are reckless, wasting bullets as they empty their guns over one beta. They've become cocky. _Stupid_ , Allison thinks as she slowly crawls thorough the back window, dropping down without a sound next to Lydia. Neither girl is surprised when a hunter is on them immediately. Allison goes to strike but Lydia takes matters into her own hands - literally- sinking her claws into the mans hip and pulling him forward, with a snarl she yells, “To the death, correct?” and doesn't wait for Allison's response to grab hold of his shoulder with her free hand, bringing her other one up in a flash, ripping his body in half. Allison listens to the satisfying splosh he makes when he drops to the ground.

Allison leaves Lydia when Stiles joins her, together they take down another hunter, Stiles jumping on his back and exposes the mans neck as Lydia takes one of her knives and slashes it open.

 _They'll be okay_ , Allison thinks as she walks past the mans now severed head ,and into the heart of the fight.

She raises her bow and doesn't flinch when she sends two flying into the woman currently fighting Violet, they share a nod, and Violet disappears with a leap.

 

After, what feels like hours, Allison is tag teaming with Jo, both girls standing back to back as three male hunter circle them, “Now what are two pretty girls like yourselves doin' in a place like this?” one mocks as he flicks his knife around his fingers, smiles stretching their features as they close in on the girls, “Why are you walking away, darlin'? We just wanna talk.” They laugh as Allison bares her teeth, a snarl ripping out of her throat as she raises her bow to meet his left eye.

Allison knows what she's going to do to him.

“What do you think” Jo yells over the chaos, though Allison could hear the smirk threatening to split her features, “I say we show these men a real good time.” She drawls and Jo wastes no time loading the guy to her left up with bullets, sending him flying to the floor. Allison let's her arrow fly and smirks when it stops with a satisfying slick right through their mockers eye. He screams, and immediately drops his gun, but she's no longer on him, she shows the other man more mercy and sends an arrow between his eyes, and as her crumples to the floor, she picks up the gun their mocker had dropped ,and puts a bullet in his brain. Jo nods at their victory, steps over a body, and jumps back into the action.

Allison is about to follow her when a scream rips through the fight. No one stops to look because no one can afford to, all busy with the challenge in front of them.

“STILES!”

Allison almost collapses when she feel a string tighten. The chord being pulled with so much force she's almost certain it will snap right then and there. Over an over again the pain lessens and then snaps back into place, it feels as if her head is being smashed into the pavement.

With as much focus as she can muster Allison makes her way over to her beta's voice. She calls her name, but can barely hear it over the sound of rushing blood.

Eventually she finds the scene.  
Stiles is pinned to a wall, hunters surrounding him in a circle, stuffing his body with blades. Blood drips past his lips and slowly marks the floor, his face is red and his eyes wide as knives are taken out and put back in the moment the wounds heal; Lydia's helplessly clawing her way to him, though a few snaps sound, and Allison knows she down for a few moments. Does she even have a few minutes?

 _They're going to die_ a voice whispers in her head and her wolf whines in response, _NO_

Deaton talked to her about frenzy's when she finally accepted Derek's help. It was explained to her that in times of need, her wolf would take over and do whatever necessary to insure the survival of her pack.

“So, it's like setting off a bomb.”

“Try nuclear explosion.”

At the time it seemed a little funny. But she's not laughing now. She can feel her wolf thrashing underneath her skin, pain blossoms in her chest as if claws were sinking inside her flesh, tearing it to pieces under its razors. Her eyes flood red and her fangs press against her lips

It feels right.

“Allison!” she snaps her head to the side and red meets red. Martella is beside her, her dark skin spotted with blood, a stripe oozing down her neck, her clothes ripped and dirty. She looks feral. Allison smiles, and by the small look of surprise that made home on Martella's face, she looks just as dangerous.

With that they walk into the circle. Martella sinking her teeth into the neck of the nearest hunter and spitting out his flesh before he can respond, moving on to the next one. Allison slings her bow around her back and takes out two knives, twirling them around her fingers before shoving them into the back of a woman. She takes satisfaction in the way she screams. They strike over and over again until the sound of a gun cocking stops them in their tracks.

Allison notices the silence.

“Two alphas,” One shouts, “Looks like it's our lucky day boys.” Allison turns to face the voice, and slings her bow around arming herself. She recognizes who he is.

“You must be Ricardo.” She snarls.

He smiles, “Yes I am. And you must be Alpha Argent.”

She doesn't respond.

He walks closer, every step echoing off the walls. The warehouse is silent, but she can still hear the fight going on in her mind. Bullets raining down hard, leaving loud pings as it grinds with metal; the smooth sound of blades cutting skin allowing the bitter smell of copper to fill the air; cattle rods gleaming dangerously in the gun powdered air.

“Put the bow down, beautiful.” Ricardo says, his voice calm, and it would be soothing if the smell of death wasn't so punctuated in his breath.

“No.”

He smiles again and walks around Allison, “I suggest you do as I say, girl. Your beta's aren't looking to good. I wouldn't push your luck.”

“Why not? You're going to kill us anyway, why not make it difficult.”

She finds it disgusting how cheerful he is by it all. His face seems to be frozen in a grin, his laughter booming around them. They're just entertainment to him.

“Ahhh, you got spirit I'll give you that, Argent,” he points a finger at her, “I'll give you that.” He's behind her now, moving towards her right. She feels her jaw tighten when Lydia's noises of protest echo off the walls. _He must have been walking towards Stiles._

“No, don't, stop, no, no...” Lydia's silenced when he leans to her level and squeezes her jaw, his finger nails digging into her skin until the surrounding area blossoms red, “Shush, dear,” he says into her ear. Lydia -now capable of using her hands- grabs his wrist and jerks away, the gesture lined useless as he grabs hold of her hair, yanking it in punishment, “You know, wolves are all talk until they're made to beg like the animals they are.”

“So are hunters.” Allison says. She wants to follow his movement, but finds herself stuck in position, she's terrifiedfor her beta's

He ignores her comment and moves on to Stiles, whose breathing went from laboured to wheezing, Allison wishes she could look at him, “Look at you all. You came in here. actually _believing_ you had a chance to take us down.” Allison's heart clenches when she hears the unmistakable sound of a blade being drawn out of it's scabbard. Looking in front of her, she sees most of their numbers are held in place by Ricardo's hunters or stopped in place from the power of the scene in front of them. But she notices, much to her surprise and delight, they're not out numbered.

Not anymore.

She looks up and sees Andrew standing next to a woman who's pressing a gun to his temple, her attention on Ricardo. His gaze is fixed on his wife, but he must feel Allison's because he meets her eyes and smiles sadly, like he's already made peace with the fact he won't see tomorrows sun. She tilts her head to the side slightly and winks. He takes a minutes to respond, confusion written on his face, but when realization dawns on him his eyes flash gold. He turns back to Martella, and does the same, a grin now plastered in place.

“So, Martella, Argent,” Ricardo voices louder, the strings of her heart plucking away at its intensity, “How about we show you what we do to animals who misbehave. I promise, it'll be quick.”

“No.” Allison says again and almost apologizes when she feels Lydia cry out through their bond.

Her words do the job, almost immediately Ricardo is in front of her, knife pressed against her neck, “Put the bow down.” he says again, and this time Allison does as she's told, sinking slowly to her knees, eyes locked in his as she stands back in place. She has to hold back a grin of her own when Ricardo smiles and resumes pressing the blade into her skin. He thinks he has control, “Now was that so hard?” he says with a mock pout, dragging his knife slowly across her neck, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to leave an angry red mark in its wake.

She smiles.

“You shouldn't have done that,” she breathes into the small space between their lips. She takes his split second pause of confusion as her window of opportunity and slams her heel into her crossbow, an arrow flies through his calve and she jumps back when he topples to the ground.

 

The fight resumes full force.

She turns her back on the bloodbath Martella's pack is now constructing, and leans down, grabbing Ricardo by the back of his shirt. With the help of Martella, they get him up and over to middle of the room,

Martella watches her for a moment before asking,“What do you need?”

“Rope,” Allison says, her hand curling around Ricardo's jaw, forcing her gaze into his.

Martella disappears.

Allison looks up and watches as Lydia sticks both her hands into a woman’s mouth, ripping her jaw off before returning to a crouched position in front of Stiles, a look of challenge on her face.

“You hurt my pack,” Allison says, “Now what are we to do about that?”

He doesn't wither or whine, his body is still even though she knows he's in deep pain, and it's about to get a lot worse. When Martella returns, Allison drops Ricardo and smiles at his noise of pain. She takes the rope and ties it to the end of an arrow, and shoots it into a wooden ceiling plank, she tugs at it to make sure it's stuck.

“I need him upside down.” Martella is more than happy to oblige.

Soon Ricardo is hanging by his ankle, dangling in front of them like a piñata.

“What I do,” Allison crouches down, and smiles “ - See this is a personal preference- What I do is rip out teeth, one by one, and then slit the throat of my victim. And _as much_ as I would love doing that to you,” she flashes her eyes, “You're not mine.”

 

**

 

She breathed in slowly as the blood ran down her face, rushing over her lips and trailing down her neck, covering every inch of skin it could. Her body was still, though her heart hammered away, she was almost afraid it would burst from it's place behind her ribs and colour the room further. Blasts of red shocked every inch of the room, she would consider it beautiful if it wasn't horrifying the girl behind her.

The wolf hung from the ceiling, his body draining onto her skin, his teeth in a pile next to her.

A small voice sounded from the loud noise of her mind, “Allison?” the voice was shaky, and didn't match the always steady girl, “Allison, are you okay?”

Allison breathed in deeply and licked her lips, swallowing the wolfs blood. She opened her eyes and could feel them fill red.  
She felt powerful.

Slowly she rose and stood to her full height, she turned to her friend and knew the gasp Lydia gave wasn't in fear of her, and for that she felt her system preen in a way it hadn't before.

“I'm the alpha now.”

 

**

 

She stands and turns to Martella. Behind her is the rest of her pack, beaten and bloody, but intact. She can't say the same for Ricardo and his hunters though. She notices the way they're strung around the room, heart beats coming from some, but most laid in piles of thick blood and organs.

Allison scans the group and her heart settles when she sees Lydia and Stiles. Lydia is holding him up, one arm around his waist while her other is held tightly in his grasp. They smile wearily as Allison looks them over.

Martella steps in front of Ricardo and growls when she crouches down. She doesn't say anything to him, letting the silence stretch on until she snarls and reaches out, placing her hands around his head. He screams, but that does nothing stop her claws from sinking into the meat of his neck. She twists and yanks until the sound of ripping flesh fills the air. Martella stands and levels his head with hers, “Bitch.”

 

**

 

They spend the next few days with the Martella's who graciously opened their door so they could lick their wounds and rest. After that night most of the hunters and pack went to their respected homes, and now it was their turn. With a slam, Allison closes the trunk and walks around to where Lydia and Stiles are talking with Martella and her pack. She pauses at the sight and smiles knowing they have made an alliance, and made friendship with their neighbouring pack.

“Okay guys, as much as they've enjoyed your company, I think these three would like to get home.” Martella smiles at Allison when her beta's stand next to her, “Thank you.” she breathes, and Allison smiles.

“Anytime.”

They drive off after one last goodbye with the group.

 

**

 

The front door swings open the moment Allison kills the engine. She smiles as the rest of her pack pools out of the Hale house to welcome them home. They all stand outside for awhile talking and Allison breathes deeply for the first time in weeks.

She feels whole.

She walks away from Kira's welcoming embrace - leaving her to tackle Lydia- and over to Scott, who's currently draped in Stiles. She smiles and throws her arms around both of them and sighs contently.

“As much as I love you guys, I'm going home. Allison, don't call unless the world's on fire.” Lydia says, hand tugging Isaac along to their vehicle, he grins and waves his goodbye.

Allison soon gets Scott to herself when Erica and Danny come along and pull Stiles into their arms.

“Hey,” she says looking up at him through her lashes, and smiles back at his shy grin

“Hey yourself.”

She laughs, and allows him to pull her in for a kiss.

“Has anyone seen my husband?” Stiles says, yawning into in sleeve. Scott raises an eyebrow and motions with his hand for him to turn around. Stiles does, “Hm,” he says to the smiling alpha a few feet away, “He looks like my husband,” Poking the air with a lazy finger, Stiles walks closer, “but it's hard to tell without that frown. Here, let me test him,” he throws himself into Derek's arms, nuzzling his neck with his nose, “Yup,” he sighs as their bodies melt into one another, “This one's mine.”

Everyone says their good byes as the sun sets, basking the pack in deep pinks and oranges. They all leave one by one until the alpha's and their mates are the only ones left talking.

With one last good night, Allison and Scott walk away to the sight of Derek pulling Stiles inside with a little too much enthusiasm, Stiles throws a wink over his shoulder.

Scott laughs.

“Come on,” Allison smirks as they walk to their car hand in hand, “I haven't seen you in a while and I need a shower.” He laughs, smiling at her.

God she missed that smile.

 

**Author's Note:**

> That was written in a five day frenzy.  
> It started off as a fleeting idea that soon broke the surface and drove me insane.  
> Believe me when I say it was only suppose to be a small little thing.
> 
> Yet here we are.
> 
> (Obviously, I don't know places, or slogans for places. I'm sorry for that one)
> 
> No beta. All mistakes are my own.


End file.
